A Witch of No Importance
by Bottlebrush
Summary: Peter Pettigrew had a girlfriend. This is her story.


A Witch Of No Importance

Rating: K+

Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter world or its characters. J. K. Rowling does.

Summary: Peter Pettigrew had a girlfriend. This is her story.

Now that the whole wizard world has gone overboard rejoicing at the downfall of You Know Who, I have to write this for the sake of the people for whom this is a time of sadness. My name is Imelda Quinn – call me Mel - and you won't have heard of me, unless you work in the Floo Network Authority, or went to Hogwarts in the seventies. I'm not famous or important, but I am – I was – Peter Pettigrew's fiancée.

Peter and I started at Hogwarts in the same year. I was so nervous the first time we went into the castle that I tripped and fell over my own feet, and would have landed flat on my face if a boy hadn't stopped to catch my arm and help me up. He was small, like myself, with a round pink face and a nice friendly smile, and when I was waiting in line to be Sorted I felt just a bit disappointed when the Hat put him in Gryffindor. I was hoping for Hufflepuff myself, because that's where my sister Marie was. I didn't have long to wait – there was just one other boy in front of me, and he went to Gryffindor too – then I was sitting under the Hat, and in no time at all I was walking to the Hufflepuff table with the applause ringing in my ears, Marie and her friends clapping loudest of all.

The next time I saw the boy was in Herbology class, Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors together. He was cutting up some shiny black seeds, which was not what he was supposed to be doing at all, but Professor Green didn't notice him, not even when he fed the seeds into the throat of a carnivorous cactus flower. Seeing me looking at him, the boy grinned and put a finger to his lips. I smiled back and nodded. Suddenly the cactus flower exploded in a violent sneeze, spraying bits of seeds everywhere; some landed on the heads of students in front of us, and some down the necks of robes, and wherever they landed they made people itch and squirm. The lesson was disrupted, and Professor Green's efforts to discover the perpetrator failed.

From that day Peter and I were friends. I didn't see all that much of him; he spent most of his time with his gang of Gryffindor boys. I didn't mind; I got on well with the Hufflepuff girls in my year, and I had Marie to look out for me. Peter did try to explain.

"I don't know how it is with girls," he said earnestly, "but if you're a boy, you've got to be in a gang, or else you get bullied and have a rotten time. And Potter's gang is definitely the best one to be in. I'll ask them if you can join too."

Later he came to report failure. "They said they won't have any girls in the gang," he told me, "and nobody who isn't in Gryffindor. I'm sorry, I did try."

"That's okay, I don't mind," I assured him. This was true. I didn't want to be in Potter's gang. I didn't like what I had seen of them. Potter and Black were the leaders, and they were much too good to be true. Brilliant at class work, brilliant at Quidditch, liked by most of the professors, utterly confident and full of themselves. They were popular with the other kids, too, but not with me. Not that they'd have cared; they were too clever and big-headed to bother what a little Hufflepuff girl thought of them. The other boy in the gang was Remus Lupin, and he was different, more like Peter; he was clever too, but quiet and modest, and his jokes were not malicious. He was ill a lot, but he never complained. I liked him, and wished he and Peter would break away from Potter's gang, but it never happened. We did get to spend some time apart from them, though, because Remus heard Peter and me groaning about how difficult our homework was (it was History of Magic; Professor Binns was so boring it was hard to take in anything he said) and offered to help us. I remember his face, bright with enthusiasm as he explained that History of Magic wasn't boring at all, it was really exciting, and it was important to know about the Goblin Rebellions in case something like that happened again. It soon got to be a regular thing, like an extra class in all our subjects; Remus said he liked it, because explaining things to us helped him to get them clear in his own head, and so we all profited. Other kids joined us sometimes, drifting in and out. Of course, Potter and Black thought it was all very funny. They were so smart they scarcely bothered to study at all; they seemed to be able to read a book or hear a lecture once, and remember everything in it for ever after. But I know one thing, neither Peter nor I would have got as many good OWLs as we did if it hadn't been for Remus helping us.

Towards the end of sixth year, two things happened. I don't know what the first was; it was a secret, and it had something to do with that nasty Slytherin boy, Severus Snape. I only knew that much because Lily Evans told me, and she only told me because she was trying to pick my brains for information. But I didn't know much more than she did; all I could tell her was that I had seen something I had never seen before: Potter and Black quarrelling, Potter shouting at Black who was being even more arrogantly confident than usual. I couldn't hear what they were saying. When Peter saw me coming he called out "Hi, Mel!" very loudly, and Potter and Black shut up immediately. Lily seemed to find that very interesting.

I never did learn any more about it; Peter said nothing, and I didn't ask. I was careful never to put him in the position of having to choose between me and his gang; I was too afraid of what his choice would be.

The other thing that happened shortly afterwards was no secret; on the contrary, everyone in Hogwarts knew about it. Remus and Black became what is known as "a couple". I can't remember who told me; not Peter, for sure. I didn't witness anything definite. Black had always been demonstratively affectionate to the Gang – throwing an arm around shoulders, hugging, that sort of thing. If anything, he became less so towards Remus – in public at least – but it was there, unmistakably, in the way they looked at each other. There was love in their eyes. And even more noticeable was the change in Black. He became pleasant, almost likeable. Perhaps that was one reason why there was so little open hostility to their relationship. Some people – myself included, I have to say – believe that kind of attachment between persons of the same sex is wrong, is not what nature intended. But Potter's gang was popular, and besides it was well known that it was best not to antagonise them.

What mainly concerned me was how it would affect Peter and me, now studying for our NEWTs. Would Remus have no time for us? I needn't have worried. Our study sessions continued as before. One Saturday morning Potter and Black sauntered through the common room where the three of us were working on Transfiguration.

"Oh look," Potter said, "Moony isn't content to be McGonagall's pet, now he wants to _be_ McGonagall."

Moony was their name for Remus; they all had these silly nicknames for each other. They called Peter Wormtail, I never knew why.

"But perhaps it _is_ McGonagall," said Black, "Polyjuiced into Moony to spy on us students."

"In that case," Potter replied, "you snogged McGonagall this morning."

"Aargh!" said Black.

Remus looked up. "Away and play Quidditch," he said, sounding exactly like my mother did when my little brothers would be getting under her feet in the kitchen, and she would tell them to go and play outside.

Soon that sixth year was over, and the seventh – in spite of NEWTs – was the happiest I ever spent at Hogwarts. To nobody's surprise, Lily Evans admitted her attraction to Potter and they started dating, if you could call going arm-in-arm to Hogsmeade dating. And Peter asked me if I was his girlfriend, and I teased him a bit by telling him I thought I was a girl, and I hoped I was his friend, so …… He said I knew perfectly well what he meant, and kissed me. It was very nice, and I decided that yes, I was his girlfriend.

The six of us used to go around together, invading the Three Broomsticks on Hogsmeade weekends, and at other times dominating the Gryffindor common room, drinking butterbeer, talking and laughing loudly as if we owned the place. The Potter gang had finally broken its own rule and expanded to admit two girls – one of them a Hufflepuff! I found myself being regarded with recognition and respect by younger students and I liked it, I'd be lying if I said I didn't. But what I liked more was Peter, as friendship grew into love.

And despite all this distraction we ended the year with impressive qualifications. Potter and Black, of course, got more NEWTs than anyone else in the history of Hogwarts, and Remus and Lily were not far behind them. Peter and I both exceeded our own expectations.

After Hogwarts, I went into the Civil Service, in the Floo Network Authority, and Peter was taken on at St Mungo's as a trainee Potions Dispenser. Remus and Black moved in together, and as everyone knows Lily and Potter got married. Black was Potter's best man, and Peter and I danced at the wedding.

We didn't see so much of the Potters after that. Every month or so they'd have a dinner party and the six of us would get together again, and when it was somebody's birthday we'd all go out for a drink. The last really happy time was a few weeks after little Harry Potter was born. Lily was so joyful; I'd never seen her look so radiant, even on her wedding day. Harry was passed around like a parcel for everybody to hold. He looked sweet, with his little pink face and his jet-black hair, just like his father's. When I handed him back to Lily I said, only half-jokingly, "I want one of those."

"All right," Peter said, "but we should do it properly and get married first."

I laughed. It turned out he meant it. It was what I had been hoping for for years. It was the happiest day of my life. Yes, really. Things only got worse after that.

We didn't see the Potters again. Or Remus, or Black. At least, I didn't. Peter was meeting Black for a drink in the Leaky Cauldron every week, after work on Fridays. He wanted to "keep in touch," he said. He evidently didn't want me to keep in touch, because I was never invited on these occasions. Nor, I believe, were Remus or the Potters. The strange thing about that was that I knew Peter never really liked Black. He hero-worshipped Potter, but though he didn't discuss it with me I could tell he didn't feel the same about Black. Peter was so perceptive about people; maybe he detected even then the potential for treachery in Black. And yet there he was, having weekly drinking sessions with him and chatting about who knows what. I didn't ask.

And though Peter and I were now officially engaged (he bought me a ring - I'm wearing it now, and I always will - and we put an announcement in the Daily Prophet) we never got around to setting a date for the wedding, and I seemed to see less of him than before. He told me his work kept him very busy, and he hinted at extra duties connected with the troubles with Voldemort which he couldn't say any more about, of course. He did look increasingly worried and tired, the poor darling, and I'm afraid I wasn't always as kind and understanding as I should have been. How I regret that now.

Everybody knows what happened at the end of October. It was a couple of days before I could begin to think of anything except my own misery, but when I overheard my mother and sister talking about a newspaper interview with Mrs Pettigrew, I decided to go and see her.

I apparated to her house – she had a covered front porch which was useful to apparate in without being observed by any passing Muggles – and rang the bell. To my surprise, Remus let me in. Mrs Pettigrew was resting, he told me. She'd been unable to sleep since Peter's death, so she had taken a potion and gone to lie down.

I stared at Remus in amazement. How had he the nerve to show up here, at Peter's mother's house? After what Black had done? I wanted to hit him, I imagined pounding him with my fists and screaming at him: "How can you show your face here, after your boyfriend murdered Peter?" Of course I did and said no such thing. I do not make a public exhibition of myself. Then I looked into his eyes, and saw my own pain mirrored there. He was suffering as I was, his lover as lost to him as Peter was to me. His love was no less than mine, although its object was unworthy, and his sorrow was as great. So when he said "I'm sorry for your loss," I murmured "And yours." He offered me a cup of tea.

I found myself sitting in Mrs Pettigrew's immaculate drawing-room, drinking tea and telling Remus everything I had bottled up inside me, things I hadn't even told my mother or sister. I told him how I had loved Peter when we were children, loved him for being shy and friendly at the same time – Remus smiled at that; he knew that was how Peter was. I told him of our hopes for a future together, and then – I don't know why – I told him how Peter had become a shade distant, detached, in the last few months. I told him about Peter's Friday evenings with Black; that seemed to be news to him and he listened intently to the little I could say. And then I couldn't keep the brave face on any longer and broke down weeping when I talked about how I had received the news of Peter's death.

He got up from his chair and sat beside me on the sofa, putting his arm around my shoulders. I turned to his warm comforting presence and sobbed into his chest for a few moments, until it hit me that the last person he had embraced must have been Peter's murderer. These arms had held that traitor only a few days before. Suddenly I couldn't endure his touch. I sat up abruptly and moved away from him, and my revulsion must have shown, because he rose awkwardly, saying something about making another pot of tea.

When he came back in with the tea-tray I had composed myself. I reminded myself that there was no proof that Remus was in any way implicated in Black's crimes – although there were and still are those who believe he must have been – and prepared to make polite conversation again.

"What will become of little Harry?" I asked.

"He's gone to stay with Lily's relatives," Remus replied.

"What, Muggles? I'd have thought James and Lily would rather you took care of him," I said.

He smiled ruefully as he said "I hardly think the authorities would consider me a suitable person to have charge of a child."

I felt myself turning red. "Oh, of course," I said, "though I thought being gay didn't matter so much these days."

He looked startled. "Then you don't……Peter didn't tell you?"

"Peter never told me anything," I said, "he didn't need to. Everyone in Hogwarts knew about you and Black. You weren't exactly discreet."

He walked over to the window and looked out, speaking with his back to me but loudly enough for me to hear him clearly. "No, we never thought we had anything to be ashamed of, so we were shameless." He turned to face me, and I had the impression he was somehow taller than I had thought. "I wish I could be as proud of everything in my life as I am of being Sirius Black's lover," he said, looking over my head as if he spoke not to me, but to the world. And not _I was_, or _having been_, but _I am_. For the first time ever, I felt in awe of him, almost afraid of him. The quiet, kind, humorous boy I had known had become a wizard: powerful, dangerous, defiant and mysterious. The very air in the room seemed to have grown a shade darker.

With a quick smile he broke the spell and was just Remus again. "I won't be around here much longer anyway," he said, "I'm going to Italy in the new year, to stay with an old friend of Dumbledore's. I am to help him sort out the parchments in his library, so I'm told. Then in September I'm off to Durmstrang, to study the Dark Arts in more depth than Hogwarts offers."

I didn't like the sound of that. "I've heard bad things about that place," I told him.

"Don't believe all you hear," he said. "Anyway, I'm going on Dumbledore's recommendation."

I wasn't sure what he meant. Had Dumbledore recommended Durmstrang to him, or him to Durmstrang? It didn't really matter and I couldn't ask him because at that moment Mrs Pettigrew came into the room, and we were offering her tea and cake, and Remus was explaining that he had to go now.

"You take care," I said to him, thinking of Durmstrang. I wanted to tell him I didn't hate him or blame him any more, and I was still his friend, but I think he understood that anyway. And indeed I pitied him, and I still do, because his lover is lost to him for ever; Sirius Black will never be released, after what he did, and nobody escapes from Azkaban. And after death, if there is any justice, his evil soul will rot in Hell. But my Peter is waiting for me in a better place, and if I live my life the best I can, and remain true to the Light, some day we will meet again, and never be parted. I believe – no, I _know_ – that is how it will be.


End file.
